sometimes the night

There is something about the night that I love. There is something hidden in it, an essence, that is not present in the daylight. Senses are heightened. The air feels cooler, calmer, quieter. And of course it is, most of the world is asleep. But, there is something ethereal, magical and strange about the night that lifts me a bit above my chair. Even in the midst of stress and deadline and inattention there is something about the night that whispers, “anything is possible” because the day has not yet ended and it has also not yet begun. It’s an in-between time that doesn’t exist for most, because they sleep through it. They are rigid. They are structured. They are missing something. But sometimes, in the night, even amongst the mist and air of blissful, dreamlike logic, I am missing them too.

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